Free Hour of Mischief by Aimee Hyndman

realms, so he had very few worshipers. People saw him as an observer rather than one who acted. The fact he had weighed in on an argument at all was mind blowing. “
The
Clockmaker? Actually . . . speaking?”
    “Yes,” Laetatia said. “He hasn’t appeared to us. He relays his message through Mother and Father. But it’s making everyone antsy. We’ve been ordered by Mother and Father not to mention anything about this conflict. We can’t surrender our powers just because the elder gods are holding the human realms hostage. Warning the human realms could turn them to the elder gods and weaken our position.”
    “But someone
has
to warn them,” I said, sitting up even though my head screamed in protest. “And you
like
humans, unlike some of the other gods. So we–I mean I–figured, you might help.”
    Laetatia frowned. “It’s not in my nature to spread bad news, girl. I love festivities and merriment and drunken bar songs in the early morning hours. Not spreading bad rumors and causing panic. I’m not sure I’d be suited for such a dreary topic.” She swirled the remnants of her drink in her cup. “Eventually the elder gods will realize they cannot hope to challenge the Realm of the Gods with only half their power.”
    “By that point they’ll have destroyed most of the human race,” I said, my voice rising in both volume and conviction. “I know the rumors aren’t ‘fun’ but if you don’t spread the word, then all the humans could be wiped out by the elder gods and their damn apocalypse while other gods do nothing. Then maybe you recreate the human race but what if the elder Gods destroy that too?
    “Then there–there won’t be any humans left to sing drunken bar songs with. There won’t be any more parties. There won’t be any more drinking competitions or festivities.” I recalled what Itazura said earlier about his domain and its need for humans. “If this apocalypse isn’t stopped, you’ll have nothing. You need us for your domain.”
    When I had finished, I took a deep breath and prayed Laetatia wouldn’t punish me with her godly powers. I was quite sure she could take away my resistance to alcohol if she wanted, and if she did, I would likely keel over dead.
    But she didn’t smite me. She just studied at me for a long while. Maybe she
was
considering my statement. The tiniest flicker of hope blossomed in my chest.
    Finally, Laetatia sighed. “Show me your palm, human.”
    “What?” I asked.
    “Your palm.” She held out a hand. “Let me see it.”
    There went the hope. With a tentative smile, I held out my left arm.
    Laetatia’s mouth twitched. “Your flesh one, please.”
    I exhaled and obeyed. She took my wrist and examined my hand where Itazura’s mark remained, a thin silver line.
    “That’s what I thought.” She released my hand. “Itazura, get in here. Now.”
    Itazura appeared on the windowsill, faking a yawn. “Hello Lae. How are you this fine early morning? Fancy running into you. I was just passing by and–”
    “Cut the crap.” Laetatia nodded at me. “You made a pact with a human. A dangerous pact. You’re really using humans now to disobey Mother and Father? That’s pretty low.”
    “That’s what I said,” I muttered.
    “I’m not
using
her. I offered to take her out of an undesirable situation for a small price,” Itazura said.
    “The price of letting you use me.” I leaned forward, but upon doing so, my vision swam again. Maybe lying down was smarter.
    “Why are you doing this?” Laetatia demanded.
    “I would tell you,” Itazura said. “Unfortunately my lips have been sealed on that
topic
. I can’t even say the word when in the presence of another god. Trust me, I’ve tried.”
    Laetatia observed him with narrowed eyes for a long moment before she snapped her fingers. “I grant you permission to speak of the apocalypse to me.”
    Itazura beamed. “Aw, thanks sis.”
    “Don’t make me regret it.” Laetatia leaned back in her